Flashpoint
by jordayna
Summary: Callen is deep undercover and the rest of team is dealing with a huge mess.  When Callen is compromised can the team trust the only person who can help Callen?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

No day on Skid row was easy but today was particularly bad. First, was the bad batch of heroin that seemed to be making the rounds. Then, there was the near riot between two rival gangs. Doctor Emily MacAvoy had enough. From the time her clinic opened its doors, she had been non-stop, not even finding time for lunch. Now all she wanted was her easy chair and a nice glass of wine.

"Mac, you still here?" Emily heard as she shook her head. Her quiet evening was not meant to be.

"Good, you are still here. He's hurt bad and I can't help. He needs you."

"Slow down, Doc. Who needs me?" Emily asked as she began to gather up some medical supplies.

"The guy outside. I found him down by Alameda and 6th. He had this." Doc told her, handing over a wallet.

She slipped it into her pocket as she ran to the door. Doc never disappointed. The man was badly beaten, probably the worse she had seen in a while. She did a quick cursory check, carefully looking around to see if the people who had done this were not still around. More than once a beaten man had brought his trouble into the clinic. Noting the injuries she could see, she pulled the wheel chair Doc used to bring the patients to her into the clinic. Locking the door, she brought her patient to the room she used for her most serious patients.

"Doc, help me lift him."

The two of them lifted him on the table. Even though Doc was homeless, in an emergency he was quite helpful. Doc was an RN in the army and due to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, he just couldn't function. As often as Emily had tried to help him, he always ended up back on Skid Row. So she told him to bring her any injured people and he did. The only time she saw Doc as somewhat normal was when she allowed him to help her.

They made quick work of their patient's clothes. As each article was removed, Emily saw how badly he had been beaten. She knew he had broken ribs and she hoped there was no internal bleeding, though she had a feeling there was. Doc had backed off, knowing he could contaminate the wounds.

"Mac, I'll keep my ears open, see if anyone is looking for 'im." Mac nodded as she continued her evaluation as Doc slipped out.

Emily knew he was bad. The bruises were distinctly boot shaped. He was very tender in the chest area. After listening to his chest, she was relieved to see he hadn't punctured a lung. His eyes were swollen completely shut and his lip was very swollen. With the exception of cuts, his face wasn't bad. He must have protected it. Looking at his arms, she knew he had done exactly that. His left wrist was broken and several fingers on both hands were broken. He needed a hospital. Badly. Reaching for the wallet, she looked for ID. Terrific, he was Russian. Stavros Gorshkov was his name. Damn, the Russian were beginning to make life difficult here on Skid Row. More and more she was hearing how they were causing problems on the docks and in many of the warehouses that made up Skid Row. He was a long way from home and no hospital would treat him. He had a concussion and when he woke up; she would patch him up and send him on his way. She picked up his jacket to put the wallet in it. It seemed heavy to her. Feeling gently around she found a pocket that was hidden. Reaching in, she found another wallet and a disposable cell phone.

"Bloody Hell, who are you?" She asked quietly as every hair on her arm stood up.

Reaching for her phone she realized how serious this was. She glanced at her patient and she was suddenly very glad she had a couple of days off.

"Hi, you know what to do." Damn, him.

"Marty, it's me. Get down here right away and I don't mean tomorrow. Tonight." Emily ordered in her English lilt. "I'll be in the office and come alone."

"Great." Emily sighed as she began to clean up the cuts. "I guess it's you and me for a while, Mr. G. Callen."

It had been a hard take down, harder because they were short a team member. Marty Deeks stretched and glanced at the controlled chaos that surrounded him. It figured an Albanian Terrorist group would pick now to buy some major explosives from a Mexican Cartel. The cartels lately were diversifying into explosives and high end military hardware. There was no money in drugs anymore. As normal, it went wrong. There was shooting and now there were dead Albanians and dead Mexicans scattered around. To top it all off the explosives, military hardware and money they were dealing with is missing. It figured.

Marty looked for his team members but all he saw was a sea of alphabet agencies. He hated that they were all the way in San Diego, Otay Mesa to be exact because he knew he would get to bed just in time to get up again.

"No worries, Deeks." Special Agent Kensi Blye said suddenly materializing out of nowhere. "We'll stop and get you a Double Double on the way home."

"I was thinking more that I would enjoy some Carl's Jr.. Maybe a Teriyaki Burger."

"You'll be lucky if we get breakfast at Mickey D's." Special Agent Sam Hanna groused. "This is a mess."

"Yeah, well, here's to a long night." Kensi replied walking off. "I'm going to call Hetty to see if she can speed this up."

Sam and Deeks looked at each other and shrugged.

"Hear from Callen?" Deeks asked. "We could have used him tonight."

"We won't hear from him until he needs us. He is deep undercover." Sam answered.

"Doesn't that make you nervous? Even when I was deep undercover, I had a handler I could contact."

"Hell yeah, I'm nervous. But G is G. He can handle himself. He'll contact us if he gets in over his head."

"I hope your right." Deeks answered.

"Deeks, I think your pants are vibrating." Sam said with a smirk.

"Yeah, I have a voicemail." Deeks said bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hetty said to leave. She said that they will sort it out by tomorrow and tell us what we need to do." Kensi told them as she rejoined the guys.

"Lets mount up." Sam ordered.

"Hey, can I borrow your car?" Deeks asked rejoining them.

"We're leaving Deeks. I'll take you to your car." Kensi answered.

"Something has come up I have to take care of. I promise your car will be fine. I'll even pick you up in the morning."

"I'll just come with you." Kensi answered.

"Its case related. It has to do with an old informant and I don't want to spook them. Please."

"I'll take you, Kens. Besides, he hurts your car. We'll do some sparring." Sam told him.

"Deal. Thanks Kens. I owe you. You too, Sam." Deeks said taking the keys and running off towards the car.

"What was that about?" Sam asked.

"With Deeks, it could be anything." Kensi answered with a shrug.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors Note: First off, thank you to all who are beginning this journey with me. I have written before but this is my first NCIS:LA fic. My New Year's resolution is to write more. I am hoping this is a start. This is completely unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I own only the characters you don't recognize and the rest belong to CBS and company. Thank you again on joining me on this journey. I hope you enjoy it as much as I am. May 2012 be a new beginning for you all! Happy New Year!_

_Jordy_

Chapter 2

Deeks sped towards LA. Ever since he got the message from Emily, he knew it was important. Emily would never call him unless she had something big. And he hoped it was big because he was pretty sure he just sold his soul to the devil. Borrowing Kensi's car is huge and if she knew he was going to Skid Row with it, she would castrate him then kill him. Skid Row was the most dangerous neighborhood in LA. Also known as Central City East it was home to one of the largest homeless population in United States. Deeks knew it well. Where there is homelessness there are drugs and crime. Deeks spent a lot of time here undercover. It was how he met Emily. Dr. Emily MacAvoy served the population of Skid Row with low or no cost medical care. She did it on her own dime. Deeks always admired her for her work. She would treat anyone no questions asked. The undercovers knew if they need treatment she would treat them. She would also tip them off if something was going down. Often times her patients would give her tips rather than money and they were far more valuable than money.

He pulled up and turned off the car. Emily never called. She knew not to call as she could blow any of his covers. So it had to be important. He walked to the door he knew would be open. He unholstered his gun, just in case. Emily sounded urgent but he was no fool. Palming his gun, he walked through the back entrance of the clinic.

"Lucy, I'm home…" Deeks called out, pointing his gun.

"Really, Marty, a gun?" Emily asked incredulously.

"You can never be too safe." He said, reholstering his gun. "Besides, you called me. You interrupted a very messy takedown but…"

"You really do talk too much. Doc found someone tonight and I think you know him." Emily said leading him down the hall.

"What now…." Marty stopped completely as soon as he entered the room. "That's Callen. How? Where?"

"The Alley off of Alameda and 6th." She answered. " He is badly beaten. I found his cover Identification in his pants but when I was straightening his jacket, I found his real ID and a burn phone."

Marty looked at the stuff Emily had handed him. Turning on the burn phone, he scrolled through the information stored on it. Sure enough, there was nothing on it except a number he didn't recognize.

"How is he?"

"Bad. I would love to get him admitted but I know I can't. Its why I called you. When I saw he was NCIS, I thought you would know him or be familiar with the case. I am truly unsure what to do."

His head was swimming. The world was dark and he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't figure out where he was. He last remembered talking with someone. His mind was a swirling mess and he was having trouble focusing. The voices around him were different than he last remembered. The last people he spoke to were…Russian. Right, he was dealing with some very bad Russians. These voices were different. One, the male, he recognized and the female, the one with the English accent, was unfamiliar. They were discussing him. Wait, now he knew the voice, its Deeks. What is he doing here? He tried to speak but it came out more as a grunt. His mouth was dry. He needed to get their attention. He tried to move but his body would not cooperate and all he felt was pain. He was having a very hard time focusing on the task at hand. He heard them say hospital. No he couldn't! He was close to busting this ring wide open. The people he was dealing with dealt with dangerous stuff. Something big was going down. He had to get Deeks attention. H e needed to stay under. Suddenly, unable to keep his focus, he let the darkness overtake him again.

"I could call Sam or Hetty." Deeks thought aloud. "I really don't know what he could be doing down here. They would pull him right off the investigation, though."

"Would that be wise?" Emily asked, turning to check on her patient. "I know how hard you work to get the confidence of the people you are investigating. This seems to me to be some sort of initiation beating."

"I was thinking that too. He is badly beaten but if he survives and doesn't report it he is one of them." Deeks said continuing with her thought. "Can you treat him without the hospital?"

"Bloody Hell, Marty. Do you know what my last few days have been like? I was looking forward to a few days of down time as Dr. Rinaldo took over." She answered explosively.

"I know, I know. I heard how bad it has been down here the last couple of days. I think if he might be on to something big. What was that?" Marty asked suddenly, hearing a knocking noise.

"Its someone at the front door. I'll go check stay here." Emily ordered leaving the room.

It was not abnormal for one of the residence of Skid Row to knock on the locked clinic door if they saw a light and needed something. Walking quickly, she unlocked the door.

"May I help you?" Emily asked politely.

The men at her door she had never seen before. She had a feeling they had something to do with her unconscious patient. She moved aside as they walked into her waiting area. They were trying to be intimidating but after several years in this part of town she wasn't easily intimidated.

"May I help you?" Emily asked again, a little more forcefully.

"We are looking for a man. We think someone may have brought him here for treatment." The biggest man asked with a heavily Russian accented voice.

"I am not able to disclose that type of information to you." Emily answered bristling a little.

"I did not make myself clear. We are looking for a man we think may have been brought here. You will tell us if he is here."

"And I am telling you I cannot tell you that." Emily argued, knowing Deeks was going to kill her when they left, if they left.

The men looked at each other with amusement. They saw she was tough but they knew they could tame her if needed. The said something in Russian to each other; preparing to find another way to get the information from her.

"Делайте то, что вы должны, но я не дам вам любую информацию о моих пациентов."(Do what you must but I will not give you any information on my patients.) She told them in perfect Russian.

"Ah, the little doctor speaks our language." Another of the men leered at her. "We are simply checking the well-being of our friend. He is missing."

Standing as tall as her 5'5 frame would allow, she looked him right in his eyes. "I am not able to give you any information on your 'friend'. I am not able to disclose that information."

"Так он здесь?"(So is he here?) The third man asked.

"I do not know." The first man answered. "I tell you what, Doctor. If you get an injured man in here, you tell him his friend Anatoly is looking for him. He wants to discuss what the idea he had."

"Do I look like a messenger?" Emily asked.

"No, you look like a very beautiful, tough woman." Anatoly answered with a chuckle. "I have heard you treat the injured in this part of the city and my friend had an unfortunate accident. If you see him, will you pass on the message?"

"If I see him I will." She answered after a moment. "Does this friend have a name or do you call him friend?"

"His name is Stavros. Stavros Gorshkov. He'll know where to find us, when he is ready. Do svidaniya!"


End file.
